Not so Perfect
by Pocket97
Summary: Paul has a rough time when he imprints on a girl who despises him. Written before the publication of BD.


The other guys always used to comment on how they thought that I'd never imprint. They said that I was way too violent to ever imprint. And if I ever did, I'd probably kill the poor girl. Afterwards, though, I'd phase and attack them for their insults, only further proving their points. Apparently, they were wrong.

I stood in line at the tiny general store, buying milk for Emily. I grumbled as I waited for the impossibly slow line to inch forward. Why couldn't Sam had gone? Emily was his fiancée. She could have just as easily had gone too. But of course they sent me just because the store had to be on the way from my house to Sam's. Damn store, should've been built some place else.

Roughly, someone pushed by me. My skin prickled irritably and my face felt hot with anger. That person had pushed me! And even if I'd have to fight to stay human, I was going to teach them a lesson. I turned, a scowl set into my face, ready to beat the person to a pulp.

Seeing the person who had brushed past me, my mouth dropped. A tall, athletically-built girl stood by the racks of gum. Long, curled, coal black hair cascaded in raven waves over her back. Her russet skin shone in the fluorescent lights of the store. And a sweet scent of vanilla wafted off her. I don't know why this made any difference at all. Normally, I treated girls the same way that I treated the guys. I should've been teaching her a lesson, but instead I stood there with my mouth gaping.

None of this made any sense at all to me. It was as if she had some sort of shield encasing her that was immune to my temper, and even erased it. Somewhere inside, I still wanted to get angry with her, but I couldn't. I just couldn't.

The girl turned her eyes away from the rows of gum to look at me. Her eyes were lidded heavily and she worn almost no makeup, but it didn't distract from her beauty. Her eyes narrowed at me, and she pursed her lips.

"You know it's rude to stare," she said harshly.

I blinked twice, but my eyes remained focused on her. I was shocked that someone so beautiful could speak so harshly. And I was shocked that I was finding it difficult to be truly angry with her.

"I told you to stop staring," she said, just as venomously as before. "Now stop it!"

I turned my head away from her, but I still watched her from the corner of my eyes. She turned back to what she'd been doing, believing that I was no longer watching her. She held herself with confidence, a smug smile on her face; pleased with her 'victory.' Picking a couple of packs off the shelves and moved to the back of the puny store, to where the soda and icee machines stood.

I turned my attention back to the line. It had moved a couple feet while I'd been staring at the girl. I moved forward, and heard a couple people sigh with relief. They were lucky that they hadn't urged me to move forward. Just because it was hard for me to get angry with that girl did not mean that I couldn't get angry with the rest of the world.

After purchasing the milk, I moved to leave the cramped and cluttered store. I turned my head to look at the line. The girl was standing in the middle of it. She caught me looking at her again. Glaring up at me she raised one slender, red-brown finger in an action that probably would have resulted in broken bones for any other person. With her, I was just happy to be acknowledged.

It was a week before I saw that girl again. I'd almost completely forgotten about her, all information concerning her having been pushed roughly to the back on my mind. But she was always there, just waiting for me to see her again and remember that horrible feeling I got around her.

I hadn't asked to see her again. During the past week, I'd been forcing myself to forget everything about her. It had worked too, until she strolled back into my life blowing everything sky high.

Jared, Sam, and I were walking toward the cliffs. The wind was blowing but it was only sprinkling today. I took it as a sign that it was going to be a good day, one consisting mostly of cliff diving. Of course it couldn't be that simple. Something had to come and ruin it.

The flowery scent of perfume drifted through the wet air and filled my nose. Vanilla. I whirled my head around to search for the source of the familiar scent. She wasn't hard to find. My eyes zeroed in on her in less than a second, and soaked in every aspect of her hungrily.

Another girl was with her, only making her seem more beautiful in comparison. A small frown turned her lips down when she saw me and my friends. Her perfect black eyebrows arched at an angle over her chocolate eyes in an angry glare. Small drops of water slid down her cheeks and wetted her hair down, making her look even more livid.

As she and her friend passed us, she glared hard and furiously into my eyes. Her parted and her voice filled my ears. "Would you just fuck off and leave me alone?" she said tightly as she kept walking.

I blinked once, but continued to watch her. From my sides, I could feel the bewildered looks of Sam and Jared on me. Breaking my gaze away from the girl, I rounded on my friends. They had no right to look at me that way. The girl might have had that ability, but they did not.

"What?!" I demanded, voice sharp with anger.

Jared held up his hands, defensively, as if he hadn't just been staring at me as if I were a freak of nature. Sam however simply stood there, his calmness bothering me beyond all reason. Neither of them spoke, but continued to watch me.

"What?!" I demanded a second time, even more furiously. They'd better have a damn good reason for looking at me that way.

"You didn't go off on Veronica," Sam said finally, surprised.

"So?" I asked, teeth bared. Their lack of explanation was really starting to get on my nerves.

"Normally, you'd be tearing into anyone who said that," Sam added, still shocked.

"So?" I repeated, more than annoyed now. I glared at Sam and then at Jared, hating them. Certain that they were mocking me. Or that they knew something more than they were letting on.

"So what if I didn't get angry at her? Maybe I just like her more than I like you," I snapped at them, hoping that they'd decide to leave the subject alone. They didn't.

The two of them shared a meaningful look. Looking back at me, they started laughing. Well, Jared was laughing. Sam was trying to hold it in. That's what really set me off. A small nerve inside me broke as soon as Jared's laughs filled the air. I grabbed him by the collar, holding me fist over his head, threatening to wipe that grin off his face. But before I could do anything, Sam grabbed hold of my arm and forced it down to my side. Dropping my hold on Jared I backed away a little, angry that they were making fun of me just because I hadn't gotten mad at some girl.

Breathing heavily, I glared at them. "What?" I asked again.

"Maybe if you weren't so set on being angry all of the time," Sam said calmly, "you would've noticed that you'd imprinted."

My mouth dropped open. Imprinting seemed like an impossibility. How could I have imprinted? I'd thought that it would never have happened to me. And now that I had the girl absolutely hated me. Nothing had happened yet, and it was a already a wreck. I bit my lip upset with the situation I was in. Nothing ever went the way I wanted it to. Even my imprinting had to be hard. Blood seeped into my mouth, filling it with the disgusting taste of iron. I didn't care though, I was too upset about what was happening.

"Paul," Jared said cautiously, trying not to provoke me further. "You okay?"

I ignored him. His imprint had thrown herself willingly into his arms. He had gotten exactly what he wanted. I didn't. I had to work at it. He didn't have to do any of this crap. Nothing, he did nothing. I glared at him, hating him for it.

Sam placed a hand on my shoulder, trying to keep me calm and under control. He didn't say anything, probably aware that nothing was going to lighten my mood at that moment.

Looking up, I watched the girl, Veronica, walk with her friend, in the distance. Finally, I was able to get angry at her. I felt a small bubble of hate and disdain that she would keep me from having the same outcome that Jared had gotten. For actually making things difficult. But I also felt determination to make her see me differently, to at least get a somewhat happy ending.

I worked at getting Veronica to agree to a date, for weeks. Every time I saw her, I asked her the same question, "Will you go out with me?"

And every time her answer was, "Sorry, I don't date jackasses like you."

I would take it at the time, let her call me anything she wanted. Once I was alone though, I would punch walls or anything else, leaving gaping holes where my fist had gone. It infuriated me that she kept rejecting me. A few times I even phased, causing huge amounts of destruction in my room or wherever else I happened to be. Still, I was determined to get her to agree to a date. Just one date.

"You will go on a date with me," I said through clenched teeth, cornering her in the back of the store that I'd first seen her.

"I thought I told you no," she said sourly, staring up at me with a look of distaste.

"And I'm saying that you are going out with me," I said.

"If you won't leave me alone, I'll call the police," she threatened, trying to get me to leave her alone.

"I really like you..," I started, trying to be persuasive.

"But I really hate you," she cut me off acting falsely sweet, a smirk on her face.

"One date," I told her. "One date, and I'll leave you alone forever."

She was quiet, thinking it over. She only thought it over for a few seconds, but those seconds seemed to stretch forward into eternity. I watched her, waiting for an answer, silently urging her to say yes.

Finally she spoke, "Fine. But you have to leave me alone afterwards. And if you don't, I will call the cops on you."

Relief flooded into me. It might not have been the perfect imprinting that Jared had gotten, but it was something. I'd gotten her to agree to one date, and that was all I needed. I could figure out what to do afterwards, but I knew that I was not going to let her get away.I smiled at her, pleased.

"I'll pick you up at seven."

((**Note: **I do not own any of the _Twilight_ characters, all of whom are the property of Stephenie Meyer. Also this was written before the publication of _Breaking Dawn_, so I am quite aware of what actually happened in the books.))


End file.
